


All the Monsters

by SimplySyra



Series: Blood on Gold Kings [34]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Achievement City, Achievement Hunters, Alternate Universe - Achievement Hunter Kings, I hope you like cannibalism cause it's in this fic, Mad King Ryan, The Red King - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 07:36:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5997109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimplySyra/pseuds/SimplySyra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To become a god...</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Monsters

When they drag him before the Red King’s court on the day of their late sovereign’s funeral, he does not struggle. Robes disheveled, crown barely clinging, pale face ruptured by fractured, breathless laughter. 

He pants between bloodied lips, his grin a sticky smear of red, curling and crumbling at the edges as the remnants of his last meal begin to dry and flake.

One of the Red Guards is crumpled sobbing and vomiting in a corner, hands pressed over his eyes, trying and failing to expel ghastly recollections . He coughs and chokes until nothing but acid and spittle burns at his throat, but still he is plagued by the memories that suffuse his veins like a swiftly spreading poison. 

The memory of the Mad King emerging from the Red King’s grave, face aglow with the carnal crimson splatter of his loathsome hunger. The strange sickly scent of rose petals mingling with the salty tang of old blood. And the sharp wet crack of ribs breaking and teeth tearing into flesh. 

The crowd seethes and rages, unified by their anger into a foaming frenzied beast. Their furious mass hemorrhages screams and curses. Angry howls heated by hatred. Blood boiling and rising to cheeks and furrowed brows. The thirst for vengeance throbbing through their veins and lighting within them the lust for blood.

Yet for all their fury they cannot harm him. Stones hurled with the force of grief leave no mark or bruise. Fists and boots crumple against the cold indifference of his skin.

Even the Red Guard striking with the sharp steel of tempered blades and heavy iron maces find themselves unable to even so much as knock the crown from his brow.

So he stands, head bowed, crown a mocking glint of gold, untouchable until exhaustion claims his assailants and darkness descends from the sky.

Some time just after midnight, a soft voice rustles and uncoils itself like the folds of a noose. “I’m sure you all know what the old tales say,” it murmurs gently as like a mother to its children. 

“That to become a god you must consume one’s heart.”

The air shudders and shrinks, sinking under a cold and eerie silence. The voice speaks again, unfolding quietly into the endless darkness.

“But suppose you are already a god? Well…Then I suppose it’s just for _fun_.”


End file.
